


The Photo Bomb

by Writernon



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Community: cabinpres_fic, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Photographs, Pilots, Pre-Slash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5050879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writernon/pseuds/Writernon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During an impromptu photoshoot for MJN's promotional material, Douglas interrupts Martin's session by photobombing him with a kiss on the cheek. The explosions don't happen until days later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Photo Bomb

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tracionn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tracionn/gifts).



> I've been working on this for far too long now (particularly considering it's also for [my prompt](http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/4885.html?thread=7657237#cmt7657237) on cabinpres_fic), so it's about time I finished it and got it posted. Not betaed. 
> 
> This is for tracionn, in honour of her 'Kiss' [photomanip/icon](http://tracionn.livejournal.com/29693.html), which I love. Really hope you like this! :)

Just after the flash there was a pause of less than a second where they stared directly into each other's eyes which neither of them would remember 'til later.

"Oh, Douglas! You've ruined the photo!" cried Arthur.

"So?" Douglas pulled away with a suave grin. "It's a digital camera, Arthur. Even though it's not the proper one that Carolyn and Herc have taken to Antigua on another of their coincidentally simultaneous 'trips' and just the one built-in on your mobile, you could still take a thousand photos with it if you wanted."

"I could!" Arthur beamed.

"NO." Martin squeaked, finally finding his voice. He cleared his throat and straightened his perfectly straight hat. "Let's just get this over with."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to compensate for an overabundance of red due to the Captain's blush," Douglas said, eyes twinkling. "At least now he doesn't look quite so much like a wax effigy."

"Douglas, just, just. Just stay on the other side of the room." Martin rubbed a hand over his burning face.

\---

The night air ruffled Douglas's hair on the drive home. The ludicrous photo shoot had been Arthur's idea. They'd been on stand-by and he'd said he wanted to post photos of all of them on the MJN website. God only knew what he'd do to them first.

With Martin standing there, looking stuffed and serious waiting for the photo, the devilish impulse struck Douglas and he'd taken the opportunity before he had second thoughts. He didn't regret it, but...

The look in Martin's eyes. Douglas had seen it, but it didn't process properly until he was on the road, driving home to his empty house. 

That turn of the head, eyes meeting Douglas's, flush shooting up his face like a geyser had gone off under Martin's jacket. Mouth dropped slightly, enough to show a hint of Martin's teeth. Then looking away when Arthur spoke. The look on Martin's face was as preserved in Douglas's mind as if he'd taken a photo of it himself.

Horror didn't look like that. Not on Martin. Nor anger, frustration, shock. Something about the look in Martin's eyes. Wide eyes the colour of rain-washed sky. Breath drawing inward. 

Hope?

_Couldn't be._

_...Could it...?_

\---

Martin walked into the portakabin the next day to find Arthur struggling with a cascade of full page printouts, trying to clear the printer tray so they wouldn't spill onto the floor. Arthur's phone was connected to the USB port. He ran forward to catch a pile of printouts about to slip off the top of the filing cabinet.

"Oh, hi Skip!" Arthur said breathlessly. "I'm printing the photos!"

"Yes, Arthur, I can see that. How many did you take?"

"Not this many! I just forgot which files were the good ones so I told it to print them all. And I also forgot I've got pictures on there from years ago! It keeps running out of paper." He glanced over at the sheaf in Martin's hand. "Oh, you've got the pictures from Minty's dressage competition two years ago! I didn't even know what happened to those!"

Martin set the stack of mostly horsey photos he'd rescued on a clear patch of desk. "Arthur, you _can_ preview photos on your phone and just print the ones you'd like"

"Oh, can you? Brilliant! Well." He swiped the last page from the printer tray. "I've got them all printed now."

 _All of the photo shoot. Including..._ Martin held out his hand. "Here." 

"What?"

"Give them to me, Arthur." 

Arthur handed the slipping bundle over. Martin started going through the stratified layers, bypassing several pictures of tourist sites they'd been to months ago and Arthur's various girlfriends' show-jumping competitions to the most recent shots of their attempted 'pictures for the website' shoot. 

"What are you looking for, Skip?"

"I just have to find... Ah. Yes. " There it was, in all its dubious glory. Martin pulled it from the stack. "There. Now it won't be going up on the flight deck or the canteen wall."

Arthur peered over Martin's shoulder at the image of Douglas planting a kiss on his Captain's cheek. "Aw. It's brilliant though!"

Martin made a rude noise, not looking away from the photo. "It's Douglas being an ass and we hardly need photographic evidence of that."

"But-"

"No. I'll be keeping this one, and if you could hide the file - or better yet, just delete it entirely - it would be for the best."

"Oh." Arthur's shoulders slumped. "Well. Okay."

"Good." Martin folded the sheet of A4, tucked it into his inside jacket pocket, and left the portakabin.

\---

Later, in his attic, Martin took the sheet out and unfolded it. There he was, with his best face of authority, and there was Douglas. Kissing him. 

Martin's heart gave a wistful flop, and he whispered, "Douglas Richardson, you right absolute bastard." 

He should tear this photo up. He should go and make sure the file was truly deleted and not sitting in Arthur's phone waiting to be discovered and, god only knows, blown up to mural size and pinned to the wall of the portakabin.

Martin thought he had been so careful. He thought he'd hidden his feelings well enough to escape the mockery of Douglas, and he thought most of all that he'd stomped the flickering flames of desire down to clinkers and ash months ago.

But here was Douglas, actually kissing him, and up went the flames again, stupid insensible things that couldn't tell a genuine kiss from cruel mockery.

Martin remembered just after the kiss looking at Douglas like he was some sort of miracle, a dream come true, before he clamped back down on his foolish hope. Douglas had looked... well. He hadn't looked like he was mocking. Not straight away. Right after the kiss, he'd paused and met Martin's eyes, face almost soft, with a tilt to one corner of his mouth that looked less cruel and more... more....

_Stop it. Idiot. I should tear up this picture._

Martin ran a thumb across the image of Douglas's cheek. He sighed.

"Bloody hell."

Smoothing the sheet of A4 flat, Martin tucked it face down into the bottom of a drawer, closing it silently.

\---

In the portakabin the next morning, Arthur stared down at his phone like it was a stone tablet in an alien language. "Douglas, do you know how to delete photos?"

"Mm?" 

"Martin told me really seriously to delete one, but I'm sure I'll mess it up."

"It's not too hard Arthur, I'll show you. You simply-" Douglas stopped and looked at the image of himself kissing Martin on the screen. His breath stalled, like his heart was an aeroplane flying suddenly straight up.

"Simply what?" Arthur peered over his shoulder. 

"Sorry, Arthur. It's just an unfamiliar phone. Let me get my bearings." Douglas turned away, muted the phone, hit the 'Send' icon and emailed the photo to himself, waiting for the faint buzz of the task completing before turning the speakers back on and bringing up the photo preview screen again. 

"Wow! It's a good thing I asked you! If _you_ have to think this much about it, I'd _never_ get it right!"

He turned back to Arthur and held the phone so he could see the screen. "No, no. I've got it now. See, you tap this, then this."

"The badminton birdie?"

"It's meant to be a rubbish bin Arthur, but whatever you like."

With a few more buttons pushed, the photo was deleted forever from the mobile's memory. 

But not from Douglas's email. 

\---

Martin was in the portakabin catching up on filling out his logbook (and Douglas's, as usual) when Arthur bounced in that evening.

"That photo has been deleted, Skip," he said without preamble. "I thought you'd like to know."

"Good." Martin felt his shoulders slump slightly over the logbooks and told himself he was relieved. Because he was. He deliberately didn't think of the printout that he'd put back in his left inside jacket pocket after it spent only a short time at the bottom of that drawer. Not because it was closer to his heart, god no. Because, because.... Martin sighed. _Well. It's the only copy now, at least._ "Good."

"It was tricky, too! Douglas had to show me how to do it!"

Martin's stomach plummeted. "...Douglas did?"

"Yep! It must be a really complicated thing to do because it took him ages to figure it out."

Martin gritted his teeth. "Did it really."

"Oh yes! Douglas was really helpful! I mean for anyone, but especially for Douglas. He was really, _really_ helpful for Douglas!"

 _He's always 'helpful for Douglas'._ "Thank you Arthur," Martin managed to grind out.

Arthur rocked back and forth, toes to heels to toes. "Just wanted to make sure you knew it was taken care of."

"It was. By Douglas." _I'm sure I know very well what he's taking care of. His priority is always himself and how he can turn any situation to his advantage._ Martin felt faintly ill.

"Well, mum wants me to go hoover again since the saltine explosion last flight didn't quite-"

"Yes, fine, go to it," Martin snapped, waving Arthur away.

Arthur bounced out the door, whistling like a rusty kettle.

Once he was gone, Martin buried his face in his hands. Douglas had the photo. _Of course he does. He only kissed me to humiliate me, and now he can get twice the humiliation from it._

Martin rubbed his eyes and took the printed copy of the photo out of his pocket.

_I'll confront him. Let him know I know he's got it. Sometime when no one else is around who doesn't already know the photo exists of course, or that would defeat the purpose. He won't be able to spring it on me if he knows I know it's there to be sprung. Take the thermal out of his updraft, so to speak._

The folded square in Martin's hand lay there, waiting to be opened and viewed again as it had so many times since he'd collected it. Martin thought he could see the line of Douglas's nose against his own cheek through the thin sheet of A4.

With a harrowed sigh, he tucked the photo safely back into his pocket.

_He's not going to get at me this way. Not with this. I won't let him._

\---

Days had passed since the photo incident, and Martin was acting odd, even for Martin. It was almost like the past years had disappeared and he was reliving his first days with MJN again. Flustered and twitching, with a strange new habit of forgetting what he'd seemed intent on saying as soon as someone new entered the room. 

Sitting beside Martin in the cockpit at cruising altitude - only half-listening to Carolyn rant about cheese and the unpredictably explosive combination of Arthur and packets of crackers - Douglas cast a glance over at Martin. 

The lines of his face were tense and drawn, and his leg bounced up and down. He didn't open his mouth to dispute any of Carolyn's insistences on economy over strictly following regulations, he hadn't asked for control, in fact he'd ceded the takeoff to Douglas despite it being his turn, and he hadn't even touched the meager cheese tray. His tense aspect was a far cry from the photo of the young Captain on Douglas's phone.

The image waiting in his email made Douglas very aware of his mobile's presence, switched off for the flight but kept securely in his jacket pocket. He'd viewed the image more times than he cared to count, burning it into his memory, trying to think of what he intended to do with it now he had it, or even what his real intention was in kissing Martin in the first place. Every time he looked at the photo though, he could feel the phantom tingle of Martin's warm, recently-shaven cheek against his lips, smell Martin's horrific yet somehow endearing cologne, hear Martin's startled gasp, see that moment of hopeful light in Martin's storm-grey eyes....

"Well," Carolyn finally said, seeming ever so slightly rattled at the total silence of her pilots. "Things to do. I'm sure you can manage to make it to Austria without crackers. Unless you want to go looking under the passenger seats for them. Again." She swanned out, closing the door behind her.

Once they were alone in the flight deck, Martin gave an agonized groan. "God, just please, get it over with."

Douglas raised an eyebrow, not taking his eyes from the controls. "The flight takes just as long as it takes so it won't be 'over with' for a good while yet. I take it Sir has a tight schedule when we arrive in Salzburg? Perhaps a tour of Mozart's birthplace-"

Martin snapped, "I know you've got it, Douglas." 

"Got what?" Douglas insouciantly asked while internally a frisson of something like panic shot through him. "Charm? Charisma? Hair like a young Greek God?"

"That photo."

It wasn't actually panic; Douglas never panicked, but whatever this was, it was doing a fine imitation of panic. "Which photo is this now?" 

" _That_ photo." Martin crossed his arms and hunched in his seat. "I've been waiting for the other shoe of 'Douglas has _that_ photograph' to drop for days now. I've been going to confront you about it since I found out, but every time I got up the nerve, someone else would turn up. I didn't want to compound the issue by letting anyone who wasn't aboard Gerti for that blasted photo know the picture exists to give you a wider audience for whatever- however you're planning to use it against me."

"Oh. That photo." Douglas was suddenly finding it incredibly difficult to appear unruffled. "What makes you think I'd have a copy of that photo?"

"Arthur told me you took a long time to figure out how to delete something on his phone. It's not that hard to delete a photo."

 _That depends on the photo._ "If I did have it saved somewhere, what would I do with it? It's as damning to me as it is to you, after all." 

"Don't be ridiculous," Martin snapped. "Everyone knows you'd never kiss me unless it was for a joke."

Douglas blinked. _Nonsense. Of course I'd kiss Martin without it being-_ Douglas blinked again. _Oh. Would I indeed?_ His impulsive intentions suddenly gained a significant amount of clarity.

He glanced over at Martin, who was staring down at the controls but looking straight through them. A ruffle of red curls crested the edge of Martin's collar at the back of his curved neck, waiting for strong fingers to thread through, capture the man and keep him in place to be kissed until he believed it was real. 

Douglas tore his eyes away and his attention back to the console. He cleared his throat. "Ha. Ah. Well. Thinking of the photo in question... if the joke's on anyone, it's on me."

Martin shifted a bit in his seat. Douglas imagined Martin turning to look at his co-pilot with pale sad eyes, but he didn't dare look over. 

"Is it?" Martin said, glumly.

"You're a picture of cool, professional composure, and I'm there stealing a kiss like a lovesick teenager." The quietly wistful tone in his own voice surprised Douglas. He didn't think to add a disclaimer like 'if I recall the image in question correctly, after all I haven't looked at it since it was taken, and certainly not looked at it every few hours, few minutes, and I certainly don't recall tasting the faintest tang of your aftershave on my lips afterward...' until it was too late to give any disclaimers. _Far too late._

Daring his composure, Douglas watched Martin's reflection in the dial faces of the control panel. Martin was looking over at him, away from the controls, face shifting in some way that was hard to read. Confusion? Dread? 

"I promise you, Martin," Douglas swore. "I won't do anything public or embarrassing with it. It's just... a very good photo of you."

Martin barked a laugh, the sound bitter and ugly in the close flight deck. "No such thing."

Douglas shook his head and frowned. "There is."

"Why would you want a photo of me anyway?" Martin huffed. "It's not like there isn't going to be one of the other ones Arthur took that day in every one of the new brochures, and on the website, surrounded by- by dancing aeroplanes."

Douglas breathed, then swallowed his incipient regret. "If you feel you can't trust me with it Martin, I'll delete it."

Martin snorted. "Right. As if you'd give up leverage like that. You'd say it was deleted and it would turn up in three months, wallpapering the portakabin."

A twinge of hurt went through Douglas, but he realised he'd earned it honestly. Or dishonestly. He hadn't as yet given Martin much reason to trust his word. He also knew now that he would never be able to make himself delete that photo. "You can come over, search my laptop for copies, delete it yourself if you like. I- I would rather keep it though."

"Exactly. So you can use it against me sometime when-"

"No." Douglas straightened, shifting in his seat, feeling somehow exposed. "No, It's just... It's a fun memory. One I'd like to keep proof of, even if only for my own entertainment."

Focusing on the controls in front of him, he felt Martin watching him from the Captain's seat, himself feeling emotionally as transparent as glass. Douglas schooled his expression back into blandness and mild disinterest as best he could, but it was nearly impossible under that searching noctilucent gaze. 

"I suppose..." Martin began with an odd tone in his voice Douglas couldn't identify before coasting to silence. 

_What's this now?_ "You suppose...?" he prompted.

"If you promise you aren't going to embarrass me further with it... I suppose that it would be alright. I- If you kept it." Martin reached inside his jacket as Douglas glanced over. "After all, if I made you delete your copy, I'd have to get rid of mine. And I um. I find I've- well. I've grown rather attached to it. A bit."

The sheet of A4 Martin pulled from his inside jacket pocket was creased from repeated foldings, starting to grow fuzzy at the corners even after just a few days. He laid it on the console, away from the most necessary readouts and dials.

_Can it be...?_

Douglas looked down to the printed version of the familiar photo, at their faces so close together, his lips making contact with his Captain's cheek. Something in his chest sang. "Ah," was all he could say. 

"I wasn't going to use it against you," Martin blustered, "not at all! As you said, the um. The damning goes both ways. I just stopped in the portakabin when Arthur was printing it, and demanded it from him so it wouldn't be.... I- I was going to throw it away or, or burn it or something but-" Martin smoothed the sheet of paper, glanced at Douglas, then away, voice going faint. "I found that... I- I couldn't."

"Ah," Douglas repeated, uncharacteristically out of words.

"So," Martin said.

"So," Douglas said.

Silence fell on the flight deck. Douglas opened his mouth, then closed it. Martin cleared his throat and otherwise said nothing. Outside the window the sky rolled past.

 _There's a chance here, Richardson,_ Douglas thought to himself. _You took a chance before, kissing him, whether you knew what was behind that impulse then or not. Take this chance too._

"Martin... " Douglas began.

Words began to tumble out of Martin. "I- I mean it was inappropriate and embarrassing for you to do that, but if-"

 _Oh no. Can't let him dismiss this-_ Douglas carried on, speaking over his Captain. "-I know a little place just a few streets from the airport-" 

"-if you weren't mocking me and y- you actually wanted to- or, or didn't but I just want to say that I-" Martin was fully babbling now, ears turning pink.

 _-without seeing if there might be something-_ "-if you'd like to, after we land we could go-" 

"I wouldn't mind if you did that again!" Martin blurted loudly.

"-have some coffee and linzertorte?" Douglas's eyes widened, and his breath caught. _Wait. Did I just actually hear that? Or was it some wishful dream?_ "...I'm sorry, what was that?"

Martin's face was flushed, nearly as red as after the photo, and his eyes were wider than Douglas had ever seen. "Um. I mean. I wouldn't mind if you- if we went. Out. For um. For uh. Linzertorte."

"Wouldn't you, now?" Douglas practically purred, feeling quite like the cat that had gotten the very best of the cream.

Straightening up in his seat, Martin said firmly, "I wouldn't. Not at all."

"Well." Suddenly it wasn't just the aeroplane that was flying. Future possibilities rolled out for them in his mind. "Well then."

Martin's gaze slid to the printed photo spread out on the controls before looking back to Douglas ."Just, um..." 

"Just what?" Douglas gaze over to his shyly smiling Captain. 

"Next time, no cameras?"

Douglas grinned. "No cameras."


End file.
